Five Times Jack Almost Proposed To Ianto
by Gmariam
Summary: What it says on the tin. Sequel to 'Someday.'
1. Chapter 1

Five Times Jack Almost Proposed To Ianto

I.

"You're going to get married someday," Jack murmured as they danced around his office. It was late, and they'd had a long day making sure Gwen had got married and not killed, but Jack felt more relaxed, more at peace, than he had all day.

"I'm really not, Jack. I'm—"

"Amazing," Jack said, then continued talking before Ianto could protest. "You're smart and sexy and a fantastic dancer. Who wouldn't want to dance with you at their wedding? Wake up to your messy hair and brilliant blue eyes? Drink your coffee and listen to those Welsh vowels? You're a hell of a catch, Ianto Jones."

Ianto shook his head and laughed as they danced cheek to cheek. "I'm a terrible dancer, although I do make good coffee. But I don't plan to get caught, so please don't try to auction me off or anything!"

"Oh, I'm not going to auction you off," Jack replied. "Because someday…" He kissed the side of Ianto's jaw and murmured into his ear. "Someday I'd like to catch you."

"Wait, what?" Ianto exclaimed, his voice rising in surprise. "Was that—are you—"

Jack stopped him with a kiss. "It wasn't, and I'm not. But someday." He pulled Ianto close. "Someday I could."

As they continued to dance around his office, Jack promised himself that someday he would.

* * *

II.

Ianto sat at the foot of Tosh's bed, shoulders bent and head bowed, his hands clutching a long silver chain. Jack approached slowly, not wanting to startle him, upset him, or put him on the defensive. Ianto had not talked much over the last three days, other than to take care of the dozens of things that needed to be done: informing Tosh and Owen's families, closing out their files, packing up their belongings in the Hub, all while helping with the cleanup of the city, worrying about his own family, and dealing with his injuries and grief. Now they were at Tosh's flat, collecting anything that was related to Torchwood.

Ianto didn't move as Jack came closer, didn't even look up as Jack sat down next to him. He continued to run the delicate chain through his fingers. Jack heard him breathing deeply, as if holding back tears. He was about to speak when Ianto broke the silence.

"She wore this to the wedding," Ianto said, voice so low Jack barely heard him. "To Gwen's wedding. She looked so beautiful, and now she'll never—" His voice broke, and he curled his fist around the necklace. "She'll never wear it again. And she'll never have the chance to walk down the aisle like Gwen. To get married and live a normal life."

"She was Torchwood," Jack said. "She knew the risk."

Ianto stood up and started pacing. "The risk? It's practically a guarantee, not a risk. It shouldn't be so hard. It shouldn't have taken her life before she had a chance to truly live it! She should still be here, alive and happy, getting married and starting a family. Torchwood shouldn't take that from people."

Jack wondered where Ianto's anger was really coming from and stood up to help calm his agitation. "Hey, hey," he said, pulling Ianto to a gentle stop. "I know you're upset. I miss her too."

"I'm not upset, Jack," Ianto practically hissed at him. "I'm angry. No, I'm furious. It's not right, that she's gone…that Owen's gone…that you were…" He closed his eyes and blew out a breath, as if forcing himself to find an inner peace somewhere, somehow. Jack reached out for him, but Ianto's eyes flipped open as he stepped back, away. For a brief moment, Jack saw nothing but fear. "It's all right, I'm fine. I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Jack said, pulling him into an embrace and holding him tight in spite of the resistance he felt in every muscle of Ianto's body. "And that's okay."

"No, it's not okay," Ianto mumbled into his shoulder. "I miss them both so much, but at the same time I feel guilty because I'm so glad it wasn't you." He shook his head before Jack could say anything. "I know you can't die, but I thought you were gone again. Forever."

"I'm here," Jack whispered. "And I'm not leaving, I promise. I still haven't proposed yet," he teased, only it suddenly it hit him that Tosh and Owen were gone, and it could have just as easily been Ianto would was shot, or Ianto who was trapped at the nuclear plant. He'd meant what he'd told Ianto after Gwen's wedding, and though they'd had some close calls, they always scraped through, all of them. This time they didn't, and Jack could have lost his chance. If Ianto was relieved that he hadn't lost Jack, Jack was even more grateful he hadn't lost Ianto.

He pulled Ianto closer and hugged him tight. Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack's waist and clung just as tightly, and they stood together for a long time, offering strength, taking comfort, remembering the past and thinking about the future. Too soon, Ianto stepped back with a rueful smile on his face.

"I hope that wasn't your attempt at asking," he said. "Bit morbid if it was."

"Attempt at what—oh," said Jack. He shook his head with a smile. "Oh no, I'd never do that. Morbid is not my style. When it happens, it'll be big and romantic—wine and roses and everything. You'll know," he added with a wink.

Ianto shook his head with what appeared to be fond exasperation. "You do know how to cheer a bloke up," he offered dryly. Jack leaned forward to kiss him, long and slow, letting his feelings speak for themselves.

"Was that better?" he asked with a smile. Ianto nodded.

"Yes," he said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Think you can finish here?"

Ianto looked at the necklace in his hands. "Can I keep this? To remember her?"

Jack's heart broke a little for Ianto's pain. He nodded, and told himself that he would make sure there was wine and roses when the time came.

* * *

III.

Jack watched Ianto shut down his station, still moving his arm gingerly. The clean-up of the Good Thinking virus was done, Gwen had gone home with Rhys, and the city would soon forget half of them had tried to kill the other half. Jack, on the other hand, was still struggling with everything they'd been through. And he suspected Ianto was struggling even more; he was the one who had been shot, after all, and born witness as Jack succumbed to the virus while somehow fighting it off himself.

He was still leaning against the doorframe watching when Ianto came over, his coat laid over his good arm. "Everything all right?" Ianto asked, sounding concerned. "You look like something's wrong. And honestly, I think we're due a break on things going wrong—"

Jack shook his head and smiled, stepped forward and answered him with a kiss. "I'm fine, thanks to you. Nothing's wrong, because you helped save the day."

"Just doing my job, sir," Ianto murmured with an embarrassed smile. There were times Ianto was so self-deprecating it hurt. He had fought off the virus better than any of them, and yet he still blamed himself for losing control. "If we don't need to do anything else, I'm going to go home and sleep for twelve hours straight."

"Go," said Jack. "You deserve it. We all do." Ianto nodded and turned to leave, but Jack caught his hand and squeezed tight.

"I'm sorry," he said yet again as Ianto turned around. He thought he saw the other man's shoulders sag before Ianto straightened up and nodded. "For everything that happened, that I said, that I did—"

"I know that, Jack," Ianto replied, sounding weary. "You've apologized a dozen times. It's not your fault. It was the virus. And that prat of arsehole you used to—"

Jack held up a hand. "I'm still sorry. And I'm still worried."

"About what?" Ianto asked. "We've contained it as best as we can, which is remarkably well all things considered."

"I'm worried you'll never believe me now," Jack said. He sighed. "If I were to tell you how I feel, or if I were to ask you to m—"

"Jack, stop," Ianto held up both hands and took a step backward. "You're probably right that it's going to be weird for a while, but that's Torchwood, isn't it? Weird shit happens, we deal with it, we move on."

"Professionally," Jack said. "What about personally?"

Ianto shrugged. "It's not the worst thing that's happened."

"But I don't want it to change things between us, to color our future!" Jack said. "Do you understand? I know you think I only said those things, did those things because of the virus, but that's how it works—it makes you say and do those things to the people you really, truly—"

"Want to kill?" Ianto finished, as if he didn't want to hear the rest. "Yes, I understand, I do. It just…well, it sucks it had to come out like that, doesn't it? Sort of like proposing to someone on their deathbed."

Jack cocked his head. "I didn't propose, did I?"

"I wasn't the one on my deathbed," Ianto replied dryly.

"At least I didn't ruin that then," Jack offered with a forced smile. Ianto rolled his eyes.

"I'm going home. It is what it is, Jack. And it's over." He turned and started toward the cog door. Jack let his head fall to his chest and sighed. Maybe they did need Torchwood relationship counselling.

Ianto stopped at the door. "Are you coming?" he asked, his tone offering for more than his words. "I've still got that bottle of Laphroaig you brought over on New Year's." He paused. "And some cake from last weekend."

Jack grinned. "Sounds perfect. And I promise I won't ask you to—"

"Don't even say it," Ianto warned. "Or I may have to shoot you again."

Jack laughed, grabbed his coat, and joined Ianto at the door. Perhaps they'd be able to work through their experience together after all. Because someday he would ask.

* * *

IV.

"It's a good thing you weren't in that trance," Jack said, sitting back on the sofa in the Hub with his feet on the table. Ianto set down some coffee and biscuits and went to a nearby chair, as if he were too nervous to sit next to Jack. He'd been quiet and withdrawn ever since Jack had let slip he'd heard Ianto during his deep sleep. Which he knew he had, only he didn't remember a lot of it. Only the important things, which seemed to embarrass Ianto even more.

"Why's that then?" Ianto asked, sipping at his mug. Jack picked up his own and sniffed at the delicious aroma, immediately noticing something different.

"Add something new?" he asked with a smile. Ianto nodded seriously.

"Splash of whiskey. Been a long day for those of us not laying around in bed."

Jack took a long drink and sighed at how good it was. "The crazy thing is, I still feel tired."

"Your brain is still recovering," Ianto pointed out. "Stella said that's usually the case for brain injuries. Apparently even your big head needs time to get back to full ego strength."

"Ouch," Jack replied.

"Sorry," Ianto replied, shaking his head and looking away. "Just trying to break the tension. It was a bit touch and go there for a while."

"I know," Jack said. He watched Ianto for a moment, then patted the sofa next to him. "Come sit with me?" he asked. "It'll help me recover faster."

Ianto rolled his eyes but came to sit next to Jack. He did not sit close enough to touch, however, and still seemed stiff and uncomfortable. Jack laid his hand on Ianto's knee, hoping it wasn't rebuffed.

"To answer your question—I'm glad it wasn't you because I don't know if I would have figured out how to short out the virus, not in time. You were amazing, coming up with that EMP pulse."

Ianto shrugged it off, like he usually did. "We had to try something. I'm just glad it worked." He glanced sideways at Jack. "It wasn't right, seeing you like that. Like you were going to die."

Jack held open his hand, relieved when Ianto took it, surprised when he squeezed so tight.

"I'm not going to die," Jack said softly. "And I don't want to, not now." Ianto only nodded in reply; Jack could see from the tight set of his jaw he was too upset to speak.

"And of course," Jack continued, hoping to lighten the moment. "If you'd been unconscious, I would have talked your ear off. Hours and hours of stories from all around the galaxy!" He saw the smallest hint of a smile on Ianto's face and moved closer, bumping the Welshman on the shoulder. "I bet you would've woken up just to tell me to stop talking!"

Ianto laughed through his nose and sipped his coffee. Jack leaned his head on Ianto's shoulder.

"I could have proposed," he said thoughtfully. "Good practice, since you couldn't say no." He waited for Ianto's reply and was rewarded when Ianto put his arm around Jack and kissed the top of his head.

"Your incorrigible," he murmured. "And I'm thinking I rather liked the peace and quiet now that you're awake."

"Hey!" Jack said, sitting up with a grin. "I just proposed and you're telling me to be quiet?"

"You didn't propose, and no…" He sighed. "I don't want you to be quiet. It was terrifying, and despite all common sense, I do prefer you up and active."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Up and active? Is that a euphemism?"

And finally Ianto laughed out loud. "No, it wasn't, but of course you would see it that way. I simply meant…I'm glad you're back. Alive."

"Me too." Jack pulled Ianto toward him for a kiss. "Thanks to you." They'd shared a quick kiss at the hospital, but now that they were back at the Hub and alone, Jack made it count, trying to convey his gratitude, his relief, and his love all at once. And then Ianto spoiled it by pulling away.

"So…care to show me just how up and active you are?" he murmured. Jack laughed, tumbled him to the couch, and kissed him again. They would be all right. And Jack still had time to ask.

* * *

V.

"Jack, if we don't make it out of this…well, if I don't…"

"Stop," said Jack, shaking his head as he maneuvered their stolen car through the crowded streets of London toward Thames House. "Don't say it, we're going to get out of this."

"We're walking blind into unsanctioned negotiations with a hostile alien species hell bent on kidnapping children for a drug high," Ianto snapped, his voice bordering on frantic. "That's a lot bigger than rounding up a few Weevils."

"We've saved the world before, we can do it again," Jack replied, forcing himself to grin. Ianto did not roll his eyes.

"We've saved Cardiff a few times, Jack—this is the entire planet and millions of children!" He threw his hands in the air. "Never mind, I'm not arguing semantics. But if something goes wrong this time, I need you to—"

"No," Jack practically growled. "I'm not going to listen to your last will and testament or any other final declarations, because it's not happening. We are going to beat these things and go back to Cardiff and rebuild the Hub and watch Gwen have a baby and spoil it like two crazy uncles. Got it?"

Ianto looked like he was holding back an equally angry retort as he stared out the side window. "Fine," he finally said. "Then I won't tell you my any of my passwords and you'll have to figure them all out yourself—which you won't— if you ever want to pull my James Bond movies off the server again."

A slightly hysterical laugh escaped Jack's lips. "I won't have to. You'll be there typing them in yourself while I feed you popcorn. This isn't how it ends, Ianto. There's still so much we haven't done, haven't seen, haven't said…" He trailed off, unable to continue as he thought about all the things he hadn't said to Ianto, and felt rather than saw Ianto turn toward him.

"Like what?" he asked softly.

Jack spared him a quick grin before turning left onto a busy street. "Well, for one, I haven't had a chance to propose yet!"

Ianto's head fell back against the seat, and he laughed through his nose as he gazed out the side window again. "You know, you've said that so many times I don't know whether you're crying wolf or if I should actually believe you."

"You should believe me." Jack reached over and took his hand, prompting Ianto to look back at him with sad eyes. "Because I mean it every time. Someday, Ianto Jones. Someday."

"I just hope it's not too late," Ianto whispered. Jack held his hand until they were forced to stop and make their way toward Thames House on foot. They would beat the 456, and it wouldn't be too late, because he would never forgive himself if he missed his chance with Ianto Jones.


	2. Chapter 2

And The One Time He Did

"Goodbye, Ianto," Jack whispered to the night. The woman beside him walked away, still searching for the House of the Dead, the most haunted pub in all of Wales, insisting it was nearby. She would never find it, never talk to her loved ones again—just like Jack.

It was strange: he'd built a bomb to destroy the pub and seal the Rift, and yet after the initial explosion, it was as if nothing had happened. There was no fire, no smoke, no rubble. Just an empty lot where a pub had once stood for hundreds of years. Where Jack had last seen, kissed, and said goodbye to Ianto Jones.

With a savage growl, Jack kicked at the ground and sank to his knees. This wasn't right, wasn't what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to be dead, too. One last farewell, and then eternal darkness, floating thru space and time forever. Ianto wasn't supposed to trick him into living and then sacrifice himself instead to save the world.

Of course he had, though. Jack should have known better. Real or not, even a recreation of Ianto Jones would have tried to save the world—tried to save Jack. It was in his blood, who he was, and it was how he had died. God, it had seemed so real, seeing Ianto again. Jack had truly believed they could be together, had wanted nothing more than to walk out of that pub hand in hand with the one man he'd loved more than any other in decades. The one man he wanted to be with, wanted to marry and spend a lifetime loving.

Only Ianto was dead. Again.

Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out the stopwatch they'd once played with. He'd found it in Ianto's flat and taken it to remember. He'd promised, after all—a thousand years, and he would remember. He also took out a simple platinum ring, polished grey with a brushed finish inlay, inscribed with a set of initials he would remember forever. He would keep the watch, but he would not keep the ring. Not anymore.

Taking a deep breath, Jack stood and slowly walked back toward the empty lot of the lost pub. Though the building was gone, sucked into the Rift, the grounds had survived more or less intact. There was a small garden bed near a corner of the former foundation, and a group of daffodils were blooming, as if daring the universe to deny them the right to live. Which was when Jack remembered: it was St. David's Day. He choked back a sob as he stood before the flowers.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the night. "I said I would ask, and I never did. And now it's too late." He let his head fall to his chest and swore. "I should have said something sooner, only I was too scared. I kept joking about it, putting it off. I knew you weren't immortal, and yet I still waited. I'm an idiot and a fool."

He held up the ring. "I love you. I have for a long time, and I will for a long time more. I won't forget you, even though you think I will. You were different. You knew me, accepted me. You walked into the fire with me, and it's my fault you're gone." He took a shaky breath. "I will never forgive myself for that. You didn't deserve to die there. You didn't deserve to die at all. You should have had a normal life, away from Torchwood. Marriage and family and a house and god I wanted to get a dog…" Jack choked up again, the last coming out on a sob as he could no longer hold his emotions in check. "I'm sorry we didn't get a dog."

Above him the stars shone brightly, mocking him with their light in a world that seemed so dark now. He'd wandered for six months, trying to find peace, and when he'd finally returned to Wales to seal his fate, it was only to find it completely turned on its head. He didn't know what to do now, where to go, but he had no choice: he could not follow where he could never go. Perhaps he would leave again— but leave Earth, for good.

Jack closed his eyes and prepared to let it all go. He clasped the ring tight one last time and held it to his heart, then raised his hand, opened his fingers to let it fall…and felt another hand encircle his wrist, callused fingers he'd know anywhere caressing his pulse point.

"What's this, then?" asked a familiar voice. Jack didn't dare open his eyes, until the grasp on his wrist was released. Ianto Jones stood before him, holding the ring Jack had been about to leave behind, examining it curiously.

"Ianto?" Jack whispered. "You…what…you're still here!" He would have swept the man off his feet if he believed it was real; it was more likely a hallucination, born of his grief.

"And so are you," Ianto replied. "Despite your misguided attempt to find eternal oblivion in the Rift."

"But how?" Jack asked. "I don't understand. The bomb…the explosion…Syriath is dead, the Rift is closed! How are you here? What happened?"

Stepping closer, Jack saw that Ianto still looked like the man he had known and loved, the man he had met in the pub; he was also dirty, with a cut on his face, his hair messed up and suitcoat torn at the elbow. Jack reached out a tentative, shaking hand. He felt the solid flesh of Ianto's fingers and held tight, wanting desperately to believe it was real.

"I'm not sure," Ianto replied, frowning. "I set the bomb down and turned to run out, thinking maybe I had half a chance. I remember the explosion, and then darkness and light, so much light. I kept falling into the light, until I landed. On the ground not far from here." He pointed toward where the back of the pub had once stood. "It must have spit me out, the Rift. Didn't like the way I tasted, I suppose."

Jack stared at him. How could he make jokes at a time like this?

"Sorry," said Ianto, lowering his eyes. "But it's true. I think…I think the Rift took me, and the Rift brought me back. And now it's closed, so I suppose I'm here to stay." He paused. "Again, if you'll have me."

Jack let a smile slowly creep across his face, stepping closer and raising his other hand to Ianto's face. "I can't believe it," he said. "You went back in, you left me all alone—"

"I'm sorry," Ianto interrupted. "But I couldn't let you do it. You know I couldn't."

"—and now you're back, holding my hand, alive." He shook his head in wonder. "It's like a dream, a miracle."

Ianto scrunched up his face. "It's not a miracle, it's a freak accident of the space-time continuum, like something from a second-rate sci-fi show."

Jack almost laughed out loud. "I don't care what it is! You're alive, that's all that matters."

Ianto smiled sadly. "Only everyone thinks I'm dead. You said so yourself—it's been six months."

"Doesn't matter," Jack said. "We can start over, do anything we want, anywhere we want. Hell, we can start over off planet!" It had been his first thought, to leave Earth. It held too many painful memories, though one was slowly improving.

"Jack, my family is here, my friends, my…" Ianto stopped. "We don't have a job anymore, do we?"

Jack shook his head. "I wouldn't go back even if I could," he said.

"What about Gwen?" asked Ianto.

"She's safe," Jack told him. "She's with Rhys, happy and healthy, and due in two months."

Ianto looked at the ring he was holding. He saw the initials and sighed, his eyes slipping closed. "You never asked," he murmured. "You said you would, and you never did. Until it was too late."

"It's not too late anymore," Jack said. He reached for the ring and took a deep breath. Ianto's eyes went wide as Jack took his hand and slipped the ring onto his fourth finger. "Ianto Jones, will you marry me?"

There was a long silence with no answer as Ianto gazed at their hands. "You really mean it, don't you?" he whispered.

"And you're not even on your deathbed," Jack replied with a crooked grin, remembering something Ianto had once said.

Ianto frowned. "That's not funny, you know."

"But it's true," Jack told him. "I'm not asking because you're dying, I'm asking because you're alive, because I don't want to miss my chance again. I want to be with you for as long as we have." He paused. "And there is no Torchwood now, which means you could be stuck with me for a long time."

Ianto started to smile. "That's true, isn't it. No Torchwood." He ran a finger over the ring. "There's also no wine or roses," he pointed out. "You said that, once."

"If I'd known, I'd have brought flowers," Jack replied with a matching grin.

"I'm not really a flowers type of guy," Ianto said. He met Jack's eyes. "I wish I had something for you."

"You came back," Jack replied. "That's all I need. You." He took Ianto's hand and lead him away from where the pub had once stood. People were starting to gather, and he could hear sirens in the distance. They would find nothing but a mystery, the ancient pub no longer there, as if it had disappeared into the air. Something Torchwood might have investigated once.

"I don't know," Ianto said, trying for casual and failing. "I could go for a good cup of coffee. And maybe a matching ring?"

"Is that a yes?" asked Jack, earning a small laugh from Ianto.

"Yes," said Ianto, squeezing his hand. "Yes."

"Then we can do that," Jack said as they walked in the dark. "We can do anything."

"Together?" Ianto asked, as if he were still unsure of their future even as Jack toyed with the ring on Ianto's finger.

"Together," Jack said. He'd told the Welshman months ago, the night after Gwen's wedding, that Ianto would get married someday. Jack had promised himself that someday he would be the one to ask. He'd almost lost his chance, but now they could build a life, get a dog, and travel the stars.

Together.

* * *

Author's Note:

For summerstar, Miladydragon, and cozsheep (for helping with Outbreak), with daffodils for miss-loves-a-story.


End file.
